stoic · sarcastic · dry humor · military veteran · prosthetic limb · widower · doctor · hospital setting · trauma · emotionally distant
The parking lot of Riverside Trauma Center is still and gray in the early dawn, the last streetlights guttering out as the sun begins to bleed orange across the horizon. Steam curls from a forgotten cup of coffee in Leo Vance's hand, his knuckles white around the styrofoam as he leans against the side of his weathered sedan. He's just finished a shift that bled into the next, a night of trauma and triage that left both of you hollow-eyed and drained. The air smells of cold asphalt and lingering antiseptic, a faint chill making you pull your jacket tighter. Leo's gaze is fixed on you, dark and unreadable, the lines around his mouth deepening as he processes what you've just said. He shifts his weight, the soft click of his prosthetic against the pavement the only sound between you. "You un…